


Chemically Confused

by savv



Category: non fiction - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Autobiography, Delusions, Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, POV First Person, Psychosis, Real Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-01 13:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18335180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savv/pseuds/savv
Summary: So, this is me. Open, honest, me.





	1. Prologue

So, this is me. Open, honest, me. My life isn’t so bad to me, but hey, who am I to judge? Where to begin? Trauma, too dark. Happiness, too misleading. I guess we can start with my childhood. I was born near a military base in north Florida. That’s as specific as I’m going to get about that. So, you may be thinking, what happened to open and honest me? Well, I can totally be open and honest without naming names and without naming places and without naming times. Okay, maybe I’ll name times. But that’s it. No more.  
  
So, this book. This is my story. My life. My diary. Sometimes I’ll be reliving old times and sometimes I’ll be ranting about something that may have just happened to me. It’s going to be one big clusterfuck of stories and hopefully, a good bit of them will be interesting or inspiring or something.  
  
I was born near a military base because both my parents were military. Air Force. I know, super cool, right? I guess. But every cloud has its lining and sometimes that lining isn’t so silver. Growing up as a “military brat” isn’t exactly fun. There’s the moving every few years and the survival training that your parents force you to sit through until its ingrained into you. I knew how to tie a noose and how to break out of handcuffs by age 12, which was actually really late by military brat standards so hey I guess I was lucky. I missed my dad a lot. I don’t remember when my mom was in the military because they let her discharge when I was really young. But not young enough to the point where I didn’t have to live with my grandparents for a few months every now and then. I don’t remember that either. But it happened. Sometimes you don’t remember everything in your life but that’s okay. Not everything needs to be remembered. But I do remember missing my dad. My mom had to raise me alone a lot of the time so she was kind of like those superhero single moms but with dad on the weekends. But superheroes are supposed to be, like, good all the time, right? So maybe comparing my parents to superheroes isn’t exactly proper or even remotely accurate.  
  
I’m actually writing this intro while “high” on my sleeping pills, sitting in the dark with my college roommate a few feet away, probably reading over my shoulder as we speak. Hi, Lyssa! Not her real name. No real names will be used. Not even mine. Not in here and not on the cover and not on the spine. None of this is real. Except for the story, and whatever you choose to take from it. Now you know, now you know, true stories always lie. Sorry, I’m also listening to music while I write and that last line was inspired by a lyric. There also may be quite a bit of that in here.  
So, I guess it's time to stop procrastinating and actually get into the story. Back to the problem at hand, where to begin?  
 


	2. What She Did

I was sexually abused by my cousin when I was nine. She was ten. Oh, and she’s a she. It only happened one time. So, if you think it wasn’t actually abuse then I guess skip this chapter or skip the book all together while you’re at it. Now buckle your seatbelts kiddos because shit is about to get graphic.  
  
We were down in her room, playing with her stuffed animals and stuff when she asked me if I knew how to kiss. Being the eager-to-please nine-year-old that I was, of course, I said yes. This was the lie that led to years of guilt. So, she told me to show her. On the stuffed animals, she said. Show her how I kiss. So, I did. Then she said I wasn't making the right sounds and she'd show me how to make them. Typical kid stuff, right? I guess it could all be “typical kid stuff” if you weren’t there. After she showed me how to make the sounds, she asked me what I would do during sex. I said I would take off all my clothes, and she stopped me right there. She said that saying things isn’t like actually doing them and I needed to do it if I wanted to prove to her that I knew what I was talking about. So, I did. Because I wanted to prove myself to my cool older cousin. I wanted to prove that I was cool enough and smart enough and hip enough to really fit in. I had always looked up to her and that was my downfall in the end. She kissed me. She looked at me. She touched me and I held back tears. How could I let this happen? How? How could this be my fault? It wasn’t. I know that now.  
  
I told my therapist about it. (Shout out to you, Belle) She told me to tell my parents so I told my dad only because I knew he could relate in a way. But I won’t get into that. That’s his story to tell. My dad was actually understanding which was very nice. Until he wanted me to tell my mom. Now that… that was a different story. Of course, she was understanding once I actually told her about it but it was getting to that point that was difficult. My mom and I haven’t always had the best communication between each other so I was really worried I would say something that would set her off and get me in trouble.  
People may say that she was my first kiss, but I don’t. How could I? That’s insane. She could not take that from me like she took everything else. That is mine to give and about six years later I chose to give it. Yeah, I was 15. Some say that’s too early and some say that’s too late but that’s when I was ready. My first kiss was with a girl named Jessie. Hey Jessie! You don’t even know I’m talking about you I changed your name. Well hey, if I ever tell anyone I’m writing this, and you happen to be one of those people I tell, then your name is Jessie now so deal with it.  
  
Anyways, I kissed Jessie. Then Lisa. Then America. All within the span of a week. Yeah… I started my whoring early, I guess!


	3. The Harlot

Speaking of my whoring tendencies, let’s get into that. From online cam shows to sending nude pictures to people I don’t know and don’t care to know, I’ve never exactly been “innocent”. Considering I only recently turned 18, you can put together whether or not I was of legal age to be doing these things when I did. Of course, in the real world, I was the perfect, innocent, lovely child who every parent wanted their child to be around. I was an angel. A role model. But online… Online I had a persona that I had to maintain. I was obligated to myself to keep getting fueled with attention. Did all this start with my cousin? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m just an intrinsically fucked up person.  
  
So anyway, I ended up in a relationship with an older guy named Jimmy when I was 17. He was 21. So he wasn’t that much older I guess but old enough for me to feel uncomfortable about telling my parents about him. I didn’t tell them. It was an online relationship anyways so I guess it didn’t count. But I loved him. He was my first real, reciprocated love. He sent me flowers on Valentines Day and we were together for over a year. We talked about marriage. We could never agree on colors but in the end, he just wanted me to be happy and would have loved any color scheme I chose. I’ll probably always love him if I’m being honest. We broke up in September of 2018 because I needed something physical. Basically, I needed sex.  
  
So, we broke up and the next day I fucked some guy named Remi. Let’s rewind for a little background there. A week before I broke up with Jimmy, I had been out drinking with an international student named Samuel. When Remi heard I was drinking with him, he offered me a beer for another time. So, that other time came and we were playing truth or dare and a lot of the dares involved us kissing. I know. I’m terrible. But it was a game and I really wanted to seem cool so I rolled with it. Anyways, it ended with him on top of me and me saying “no” and him not listening. Hell yeah, going for sexual abuse in my life number two! But seriously, after he left, I was so scared I would run into him again that I didn’t leave my room for three days. Eventually, Jimmy and my friend Maria convinced me to go get something to eat so I went to the cafeteria and ate and felt a bit better. Fast forward to the day after I broke up with Jimmy and I hit up Remi solely because I knew he wanted me and I needed some comforting. So yeah. That happened. I won’t go into detail.  
  
  
  



End file.
